


alpha male posturing

by youcouldmakealife



Series: between the teeth [22]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 16:11:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4967560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you and him—” Jake starts. “Is that why you brought him?”</p>
<p>“Are we what?” David asks.</p>
<p>“Fucking,” Jake says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	alpha male posturing

David thinks, at first, that his concern may be mistaken. Jake’s beer arrives with the fries, after some talk about the postseason, which only Kiro was involved in. David listens with envy, and Jake, by his expression, listens with just as much. Once there’s food in front of him David remembers how hungry he is, and starts on the waffle fries, a little guiltily at first, and then, once he realises how good they are, with nothing but hunger.

“Those are to share,” Kiro says, amused. “He always so greedy?”

David swallows before he says, “I’m not greedy,” overlapping with Jake’s, “he’s not greedy.”

David smiles at him. Jake grins back.

“If I get a burger will you eat all of it?” Kiro asks.

“Shut up,” David says, and then looks consideringly at the fries, before grabbing a few more.

Kiro laughs. “Sure,” he says.

“So, what, are you friends with Kurmazov or something?” Jake asks Kiro.

“I don’t know him,” Kiro says. “We aren’t like a Russian mafia, we don’t all know each other. I have American on my team, you know him?”

“What’s his name?” Jake asks. “Is it Andrews? I know Sam Andrews.”

“American mafia, then,” Kiro says. 

“USNTDP,” Jake says. “What up.”

“They even have a code,” Kiro whispers loudly to David, who smiles into his beer. 

They order their entrees before the fries are entirely gone, which is, admittedly, mostly David’s doing, but training was exhausting, and he needs to refuel, even knowing it’s junk, no matter how delicious.

“You can have as much of mine as you want,” Jake says, “If you’re still hungry, I mean.”

“Mine too,” Kiro says.

“You’re both being ridiculous,” David mumbles. He’s still hungry, but he’s got an entree salad coming. Maybe not a _monster_ salad like Jake’s dad taught him to make, but it’s got chicken in it.

“Mine has avocado,” Jake says.

David rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, you’re eating it,” Jake says. “Admit it.”

“I have a salad,” David says.

“Oh, a _salad_ ,” Kiro says, and Jake looks like he’s about to laugh, but doesn’t.

“You did the camp?” Kiro asks, gesturing at Jake’s shirt.

“Yeah,” Jake says. “With David.”

“How was it?” Kiro asks, turning slightly toward David.

“Really good,” Jake says, while David, feeling like he’s being prompted, says, “Not really as useful as training’s been.”

“I guess not,” Jake mutters. He sounds pissed, which David doesn’t get, because he agreed with David that it wasn’t exactly targeted, that they were as likely to spend time on the things they were already good at than the things they needed to improve on. Not that you can’t improve on the things that you’re good at, but having one main trainer for a whole roster means training can’t be as tailored.

“How’s training?” David asks.

“Good,” Jake says. “Way better than camp.”

“That makes sense,” David says, and Kiro laughs, for some reason David can’t begin to figure out.

The salad is good, if not exceptional, and filling enough, so David rolls his eyes at Kiro’s waggling eyebrows. “Finish your damn food.”

“Canada’s Boy swears!” Kiro says.

“I don’t think damn counts as a swear word,” David says.

“You told me to ‘fuck off’ earlier,” Kiro says.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t pretend to be surprised by damn,” Jake snaps.

Kiro laughs again, which isn’t really the best response, judging by Jake’s scowl, nudges his elbow against David’s. 

“Scoot,” Kiro says, and when David blinks at him, pokes his shoulder. “Move, Davidson. Have to piss.”

“Thanks for telling me,” David says, but slides out of the booth. “And stop calling me that.”

“Never,” Kiro says. “I’ll pay cheque on way back. You’re done?”

“Yeah,” David says, “But wait, you don’t have to pay for us, we got it.”

“You paid last time. Just thank me in your speech at NHL Awards next year,” Kiro says.

“What am I winning?” David asks belatedly, when Kiro’s a couple steps away.

Kiro waves a hand dismissively. “Whatever you want, you win. Except Vezina, maybe. Thank the man who taught you to swim.”

“I knew how to swim,” David sputters, but Kiro’s already walking away.

“What’s up with you and Volkov?” Jake asks.

David frowns. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“Are you and him—” Jake starts. “Is that why you brought him?”

“Are we what?” David asks.

“Fucking,” Jake says.

“Are you serious right now?” David asks.

“He was all over you all night,” Jake says.

“He was just being friendly,” David says, still frowning.

“Yeah, okay,” Jake says. “Just like you thought I was just being friendly with you. Because it’s all bros, right David?”

David was, admittedly, wrong about what Jake did with his bros, but Kiro isn’t acting any differently than Jake does with his friends. Less touchy, even. David may not be accustomed to being on the receiving end of it, but it’s not exactly weird behaviour, just Jake being weird in response.

“He’s got a girlfriend,” David says.

“He’s also got a reputation of fucking everything that moves,” Jake says.

“How would you even know that?” David asks. “And how is that any of your business, anyway?”

“Gabe’s little lady and him were both fourth line on the Pens before —” Jake says, then makes a loose gesture with his wrist that David assumes means ‘Petersen’s career ending injury’, which still makes David feel ill just thinking about.

“What does it matter?” David asks, and then, meanly, he knows it’s meanly, but he can’t stop himself from saying it, “It’s not like I have a boyfriend.”

Jake flinches like David hit him.

“Sorry,” David says. “Jake—”

“No,” Jake says. “You’re right. You don’t, you can fuck whoever you want, you’re right. I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

‘If you’re not the one hurting me’, David thinks, but doesn’t say, because that’s too cruel even in his own head. Instead he says nothing at all. He’s been told that’s the mature response.

“All paid,” Kiro says, upon return. “You are an expensive date.”

Jake snorts, and when David frowns at him, raises his eyebrows.

“Thanks,” David says. “You didn’t have to.”

Kiro waves a hand dismissively at him. “Share a cab?” he asks. Maybe that’ll give Jake ammo in his ridiculous idea, but Kiro’s sublet isn’t far from David’s apartment, and it makes sense to share a cab.

“Sure,” David says. “Give me a minute?”

“I’ll get one,” Kiro says, heading out the door.

“You staying around us?” David asks. “You can come with.”

“Come with, huh?” Jake asks, and then when David blinks, “Sorry, fuck. I’m being a dick, sorry.”

David thinks through what to say, and then, because it’s just Jake, says, “You’re just being confusing.”

“I know,” Jake says. “That’s on me too. I’m good, you go ahead.”

“Are you sure?” David asks.

“Yeah,” Jake says. “Good to see you.”

David’s used to seeing this, from Jake specifically, and with pretty much everyone in general, and he’s pretty sure what he’s supposed to do is get involved in one of those complicated handshakes that varies from guy to guy, end it with a one armed hug, but instead Jake touches his arm, light, a touch gone before David’s even aware of it, one that leaves goosebumps in its wake.

David brushes his fingers against the thin skin of Jake’s wrist, where he’s pale, and soft, and something David shouldn’t linger on. “Good to see you too,” he says, and finds himself meaning it, knows he’ll be thinking about this, but fairly sure it won’t leave a bad taste in his mouth.

Jake’s mouth tips up. “Take care of yourself,” he says, mouth only quirking more when David frowns, because that’s not something he’s ever had trouble doing.

When David leaves he’s a little surprised Kiro’s still there, leaning against a cab. “You take forever,” he complains.

“Sorry,” David says, sliding into the backseat, glad to see, at least, that Kiro told the driver to start the tab, because he’d feel guilty, otherwise.

“So,” Kiro says, when they pull away, and David looks at him, wary.

“Good night?” he asks, and David relaxes.

“Pretty good,” David says.

“Good,” Kiro says, fingers brushing his shoulder, a loose pat, and David leans his head against the window, shuts his eyes.


End file.
